


Of Kings and Horses

by MargoGreen



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:00:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25670080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MargoGreen/pseuds/MargoGreen
Summary: Merlin and Arthur walk into a trap of sorts
Kudos: 5





	Of Kings and Horses

The noose snapped closed around their ankles seconds after Arthur realized they were standing in a trap. The world turned upside down rapidly and left the two men oscillating slightly with each swing back and forth. Their bodies had snapped together forcing their chests to collide with a dull thud and their heads to smack together with a sharper and decidedly more painful crack. Merlin surprisingly was the first to gain some sense of coherency and tried to reach up to untie the rope that held them aloft. Lacking the proper musculature for such a feat he ended up slumping back down with a huff, thumping back into Arthur who gave an annoyed grunt in response. “Why don’t you just use your magic instead of injuring us any further you idiot” Arthur said, nudging the man harshly with his shoulder. The movement only served to send the pair swinging again. “We wouldn’t be in this mess if you hadn’t been in the mood to kill things” Merlin groused weakly. His stomach was now rolling violently and the majority of his concentration was focused on not emptying his stomach onto Arthur or himself. Despite their proximity Arthur noticed Merlin’s palor, “I swear to the gods Merlin. If you vomit right now, I will kill you” he growled. Merlin had been about to respond with something scathing when a high bubbling laugh echoed through the trees around them and a cloaked figure melted out of the forest. “Well, well, well. What have you two gotten yourselves into?” the feminine voice asked, mirth lacing the words. 

Before either of the men could issue a response, she was speaking again. “What’s this?” she questioned. Arthur craned his neck attempting to see what had caught her attention. They swung around enough so that he could see her bent down, fingers wrapping around the hilt of his sword which had slipped from his grasp in their sudden ascent. “A knight of Camelot” she mused, eying the decorative pommel. “I order you to let us down” said Arthur, mustering up as much dignity as he could while hanging upside down, trussed to his manservant and turning in slow circles. She straightened from her crouch and Arthur could sense her eyes boring into him despite his lack of visual affirmation. “You order me? So not a knight, King Arthur then” she said. She used the sword to gesture at Merlin as she continued “Which makes you” she tilted her head to the side slightly “Emrys”. Merlin began to splutter, attempting to deny her claim. Arthur elbowed him sharply in the ribs, effectively halting what would no doubt have been a horribly transparent lie. The woman twirled the sword expertly and put the tip to the ground. She leant casually on the hilt and crooked one foot behind the other. “Not exactly the catch I was hoping for” she said, the joking tone returning to her voice. She straightened once again and pulled the sword up before thrusting it sharply into the dirt where it stuck fast. The hilt and exposed blade wobbled slightly from the force of the action. She turned, walked towards the anchoring tree and knelt down, her figure obscuring her actions. “And what were you hoping to catch?” Arthur asked, voice still haughty. “A dragon” she replied flatly. When she received no answer from the men, she tossed a glance over her shoulder to find both pale, wide eyed and with mouths slightly open. “By the gods, you two are thick aren’t you” she huffed out before tugging on something which caused the rope encircling their ankles to loosen. It sent both men plummeting to ground landing them in a tangled heap. She turned back to them, “Deer obviously, preferably a nice large stag but I’m not terribly picky”. 

Arthur managed to extricate himself from Merlin’s gangly limbs and surged to his feet, dashing for his sword. He had expected the woman to reach for the weapon as well so when she remained motionless he felt slightly silly about his hasty maneuver. Despite the woman’s unthreatening demeanor, he raised his sword. Just because she had no visible weapon didn’t mean she wasn’t dangerous. In Arthur’s experience it was usually quite the opposite. Merlin had finally found his feet and was swaying slightly where he stood. He had a bony hand pressed lightly to the side of his head where it had collided with some equally bony part of Arthurs body, possibly a knee but more likely a shoulder. At the feeling of something warm trickling over his lips he moved the hand to his face and hissed when his fingers bumped his now bruised nose. Arthur fought the urge to turn and ensure Merlin’s wellbeing upon hearing the pained noise, instead keeping his sword trained on the mystery woman. Paying no mind to the sword or its wielder she turned and placed two fingers in her mouth before emitting a high-pitched whistle that was soon followed by the sound of hoofbeats. Expecting an attack Arthur moved to grab the woman, fully intent on using her as leverage against whatever party was headed their way. His motion stalled however, and his mouth dropped open as a single rider-less horse trotted into the clearing. 

Arthur knew horses. One of the noblemen that had been around when he was younger had earned most of his prestige from the breeding and selling of the beasts. The stodgy man often claimed his were the best in the lands and based off of Arthur’s experience, he had been correct. That being said, this particular mount was one he had never seen before. One he was certain would trounce any steed within Camelot’s borders. It seemed to be the amalgamation of every horse that modern breeding had created, combining every desirable trait into one magnificent beast. It had the height and thickly corded muscle of a destrier but the lean and light footedness of a courser. To top it all off the creature had the superbly refined looks of a palfrey. From far away the body of the animal appeared greyish but upon closer inspection it was in fact a mix of reds, blues, and whites. It’s well-muscled hindquarters were a few shades lighter than the rest of the body, but what really struck Arthur was it’s hair. It flowed in near fiery locks, cascading down its neck, the tail just long enough to disturb the leaves as it walked. Arthur prided himself on his ability to maintain his composure in most circumstances, but his mouth was currently agape and his eyes were wide. He wasn’t aware horses could be that color let alone bear themselves in such a human manner. Because that’s what the creature was currently doing, eyeing up Arthur as if he was some puzzle to be solved. The horse evidently did not approve of whatever image had coalesced once the pieces had slotted together, seeing as it was currently giving him a look that would have appeared far more at home on Gwaine’s face. It was a look that said Arthur was underwhelming in an extremely amusing way. 

The woman was either unaware or uncaring of this silent interaction as she began to dig through one of the bags strapped to the enigmatic beast. She turned, brandishing some cloth and a waterskin in one hand while absentmindedly patting the horse’s densely stippled rump. “Your friend is bleeding” she said flatly, holding out the items to Arthur. He blinked dumbly at her for a moment before the words seemed to click sending him wheeling around to face his suspiciously silent manservant. The boy was also staring wide eyed and gormless at the horse. Arthur desperately hoped that his face had held more grace when he bore the sight. Sidestepping this now pointless desire for decorum he honed in on Merlin’s condition. He was pale, more so than usual and the lower half of his face was smeared with drying blood while more trickled from his nostrils. The skin around his eyes was already beginning to purple and his nose was slightly swollen. Arthur’s stomach seized in guilt at having missed his servants state and for causing what was almost certainly a broken nose. But the guilt was swiftly eclipsed when the still cloaked women passed into his peripheral vision and strode towards the boy in question. Merlin seemed to gain control of his faculties and tore his eyes from the horse to look at the approaching woman. He didn’t look scared per se but there was a certain caution to his gaze. Arthur had long since come to terms with Merlin’s uncanny ability to judge people based purely on the instincts of his magic so the look was one he knew well, the boy was still trying to parse friend from foe. “Why don’t you take a seat” she said, gesturing to a log behind him. Arthur was about to protest but Merlin had evidently come to the conclusion that the woman could be trusted, as he backed up and all but collapsed onto the felled wood.


End file.
